Love Doesn't Break Easily
by Abashed The Devil Stood
Summary: Once there were four, but only two were left. She was short, strong-minded and stubborn. He was tall, reckless, and impulsive. She was a mage. He'd tampered with death. She felt empty inside. He was hiding a secret. He tried to protect her. She didn't think she needed protection. She was right; he did. Love doesn't break easily, but people do.


**Author's Note ~ **

This fanfiction contains an OC pairing, and is mainly a "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" fanfiction that uses ideas and concepts introduced in "The Mortal Instruments".

Anyone who has not read "Blood of Olympus" or "City of Heavenly Fire", and doesn't want to have the books spoiled for them is recommended to return to the main page.

All rights to Cassandra Clare and Rick Riordan.

* * *

><p>He blinked sleepily up at the petite girl sitting upon his chest.<p>

"Hrmmuhurmph?" In simple lemming terms, it meant "Is it morning already?"

She leaned over him, the ends of her hair tickling his face as she grinned mischievously. She bounced once, still sitting on his chest, might I add, and hopped off the bed.

"Good morning, sunshine!" She sang happily.

He groaned, both in pain and denial, and turned over so that his back faced her. It was a mistake. Having not been watching her, he didn't see her devilish grin.

If I may, I'd like to draw your attention back to the first time she grinned in such a manner. I believe the precise wording was "she grinned mischievously". Now, let us continue with the story.

Not only having missed her easily-mistaken-for-a-smirk grin, he also missed several other things that followed. He didn't see her bend down and pick something up from the bedside table she so conveniently happened to be standing beside, until it was far too late.

She proceeded to unceremoniously rip his warm covers off his now cold body, something he most certainly felt, if not saw, and poured a cool, clear liquid, most commonly referred to as water, over his head.

As you can clearly see, such mistakes have dire consequences.

"Arghhuphluh!" was the indignant response to her actions as he spluttered, instantly awake.

"You." he pointed and accusing finger at her once he regained his breath and the limited amount of dignity he had left. "Come over here," the universal sign was made.

"I'm afraid I have to leave. After all, my work here has been very thoroughly completed." Her grin was quicksilver, and however fleeting it might have been, it left him with a warm fuzzy feeling that spread through his chest. Nonetheless, he could not allow her to get the last word. Well, he could, but as long as he had an excuse to follow her, I'm sure it'd be sufficient to say that he'd take it. Without a doubt, he'd take it.

He leapt out of bed, forgetting for a moment that he was was soaking wet. Of course, being the dignified male figure he was, halfway out the door, he realized his shirt was plastered to his body and the the waistband of his pants was already starting to darken with the water. Therefore, the only reasonable course of action for him was to turn back and change, of course. After putting on his usual attire that consisted of black pants with white strips down the sides, a black, short-sleeved, round-collared thermal shirt, and simple Adidas running shoes, he ran out once more.

He hadn't realized that perhaps it would've been easier to find her before he changed, or at least gotten a glimpse of the general direction she went in. Prioritizing had never been one of his strong suits.

He chose to go right.

Making his way to the arena, he spotted Clarisse La Rue who had been teaching the younger children how to use a spear.

When he reached her, she grinned, giving him an affectionate pat on the head, perhaps harder than one deemed to be affectionate, but affectionate nonetheless.

"Ow," he muttered, although it didn't really hurt much.

"What's up?" she asked, completely ignoring his comment. She didn't mention the half wet state of his hair that left her hand a little damp as well.

"Aurora," he said, suddenly remembering his purpose for going to the arena. His cheeks coloured slightly. "Have you seen her?"

"Oh I have," she replied innocently. He waited for the punchline, and without having to wait long, it was there. "Several times, in fact. After all, we did have lessons yesterday, and the day before. I did watch her grow up, you know? Any time in particular?"

He could practically see the delight oozing from either ear.

"Today, this morning."

"Oh," she was still grinning. "Well... there was that time she went to 'wake you up'."

His face turned a peculiar shade of crimson. "Yes," he divulged. "she also sat on me."

"Ahh..." Her sigh was an all-knowing one.

Perhaps his face can then be described as a blood red.

"I'm going to go. You know, find Aurora," he muttered, gesturing in a general direction.

"Of course. See you later, kid." Yes, Clarisse La Rue really had gone soft over the years.

As he then continued his search, making his way to the armory, he stopped suddenly. Yes, he knew where she'd be. Spinning on his heel, he turned approximately ninety degrees counterclockwise and kept walking.

"Ah, you fiend, there you are!" His exclamation startled a laugh out of the girl sitting in the tree above him.

"Here I am. What are you going to do about it?" she teased him, knowing he lacked the abilities and the courage to climb the enormously high tree to reach the branch she was perched upon.

"I-I" he spluttered. "I'm _not_ going up there."

"Well, then, I'm afraid I'm not going down there."

"That is of no matter to me," he sniffed haughtily, sticking his nose up into the air as high as it would go, and closing his eyes in a superior manner that just made him appear as a fool.

After a moment of silence, he cracked open one eye to look at her. Her side profile was neatly outlined against the dark green of the pine tree behind her, but, regrettably, it was _only_ her side profile that was visible. She wasn't even looking at him!

"Why you," he stamped his foot indignantly, sounding like a petulant child. "I-I've never witnessed such impertinence in my lifetime! You should feel ashamed of yourself!"

"I should, shouldn't I?" She was definitely looking at him now, her grin as wide as that of the Cheshire cat. "Too bad I don't." She waved a hand in an unconcerned manner, still grinning.

"Well you should." Now he was just whining.

"Aurora," he whined.

"Edward," she replied, mocking him.

"Humph," he huffed, turning away. "Fine then."

He managed six steps before he turned back around. "Now, Aurora, if you'd just come down, I promise I'll fight fair."

She merely laughed.

"Alright then, have it your way." He pulled out his secret weapon.

"Now," he said, bending down to string his bow. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"How about I help you nock that arrow of yours?"

He blinked uncomprehendingly up at the girl for a moment, before releasing the lemming mating call.

"Arghowahphahhhmphahrmph!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"You sound like an oompa loompa," she observed.

"And, perhaps, I look like one too?" he asked dryly.

"It's only natural." She shrugged in a nonchalant manner.

He scowled playfully at her for a moment before sighing, a ghost of a smile adorning his lips.

"You're one of the only people I've met that I cannot beat in an argument," his tone was one of immense fondness.

"Hm," she replied. "That's probably why you're always talking to me."

"That and the fact that everyone else treats me like the plague."

"They just don't know you, Edward."

"And I plan on keeping it that way."

"Alright then," she replied with finality as they neared the Big House. "See you later." She lifted a hand, waving back at him in a three fingered gesture.

"Bye," he muttered, as he always did, lifting his own hand briefly in reply.


End file.
